Severus Gazed Up At The Low Ceiling
by A Penny For A Pound
Summary: Severus Snape comes back from a meeting with the dark lord in a bad way, but is someone willing to help? Will it be enough, or is he beyond saving? This may be continued, depending on whether people like it, so please enjoy, and leave a few reviews.
1. Chapter 1

**Severus Gazed Up At The Low Ceiling**

**AN: This is just one chapter for now, but I will write more if I hear from those who enjoy it *hint hint***

**Please tell me if you see any errors, as I don't have a beta, and am something of a perfectionist.**

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><p>Severus gazed up at the low ceiling, admiring the heavy spread of damp that adorned it. His tired eyes were heavy with tears, though he didn't seem to notice<strong>. <strong>He blinked, slowly, and sighed. Floating in his mind, the heavy numbness that surrounded him tightened its grip, and head rolling to one side, he sank back into unconsciousness.

When he next awoke, it was to hard wood pressing into the back of his head, and the threads of a thin carpet scratching his cheek. Prising open one of his heavy lids, he was met with blurs of green and white, distorted across his weak vision. He breathed in, trying to speak, but finding his throat swollen and dry, and his mouth unable to move. The sound that emerged was a whisper, thin and cracked, barely making it past his lips. Waiting until he could begin to see clearly, he saw that he was lying with his face to a door. The door to his rooms.

Concentrating, he twisted his head up, drawing a quick breath as pain stabbed behind his eyes, shooting down through his neck and igniting a steady ache in his shoulders. Suddenly, as though ice water had been dumped over his head, full awareness slammed into him. His eyes widened in shock and a sharp gasp filled his lungs. He felt darkness rising up to enfold him and struggled against it, but as his vision was swamped he could only close his eyes again, and try to deepen his breathing. Drifting away helplessly as tears spilled slowly down his face.

When once again he found the strength to open his eyes he saw it was early morning. Blinding streaks of light splashed from the window and criss-crossed his prone body, as the first sounds of a Hogwarts morning filtered though the door. Desperately trying to ignore the cramps that had invaded his body as he slept , Severus slowly rolled onto his knees and knelt, breathing deeply as he rested his damp forehead on the cold floor. Gradually the heavy ice in his limbs began to melt, and he managed to drag himself into a standing position, clinging pathetically to the door as his legs trembled. Knowing he had to move while he could still stand, he focused, steadied himself, and threw his body away from the support of the wall.

He lurched a few steps, just making it to the cupboard before his legs gave way and he narrowly avoided crashing to the floor by grasping the edge of the wooden furniture, and holding on with all his rapidly diminishing strength. Sweat sheeted his face and his vision blurred. Blood was pounding through his head. The Professor desperately fumbled through the clustered vials on the shelf, scattering them over the edge, until at last he grabbed one with shaking hands and threw it down his throat. Finally allowing himself to slide off his new favourite piece of furniture and slump to the floor, as the potion began to take effect. His eyesight cleared, his heart calmed, and the pain relaxed its hold on him.

Allowing himself a small smile of victory, he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled into his bedroom, closing the door. Monday morning. Shit. He tried to remember the last few days, but there was nothing there. 6:49am. Maybe in time. The springs in his mattress protested softly as he lowered himself wearily onto the side of his bed. Meanwhile, he had to remember what he was doing today, who he was teaching, when his first class was, whether Dumbledore had asked him to do any favours, whether he was covering any lessons, how much of the day he could manage in his current state….

Screaming. And pain. Screaming over and over and over.

The springs groaned in protest once again, as he slid back onto the pillows in a faint.

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><p><strong>AN: So there's your little Snape torture fix, please do review and let me know if you liked it! Most chapters will be quite short, i seem to be unable to write anything long, but they're only going up if you ask for them.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Minerva Hurried Through the Twisting Corridors.**

**A/N: **

**I'm afraid i have been forced to come to the horrific realisation that I Am A Really Bad Updater. I am one of those stupid twats who promises more chapters, decides to give up being an author altogether, than comes up with something pathetic years later. I AM SO SORRY. I don't think I'm going to change. Please forgive me for all the nonexistent speedy updates that never happen.**

**Also, I stand by what I said about corrections, but reserve the right to **

**- start sentences with and, but and any other silly word**

**- put a comma before the word and.**

**- mess up with apostrophes and their proper usage.**

**AlsoAlso I forgot to disclaim last chapter soo... Ehem. Not mine. None of it. Excepting the pale green sofa, which I have become quite unnaturally attached to.**

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><p>Minerva hurried through the twisting corridors, her mind stumbling over the unfamiliar route as she made her way down to the dungeons. Albus had sent her to find a reason for Severus' absence during the day, and despite the ridiculous amount of unmarked homework building up on her desk; that was what she was going to do.<p>

When she finally reached the door to the Potions Master's rooms, she hesitated for a moment, and self-consciously tucked the loose strands of hair that fell over her face back into her bun. She didn't particularly care what the man thought of her appearance, but he never missed a single detail, and always made sure to sneer and snark about anything amiss.

Crack!

Her knuckles struck the hard wood with a noise that echoed down the deserted corridor. Minerva winced despite herself, and continued her request for entrance in a more refined manner.

Tap. Tap.

Too quiet maybe? No. She refused to deliberate over the quality of her knocking. He would come to the door however perfect her volume. But she found herself waiting for over a minute. A small frown creased her features, slipping into its familiar mask across her face. Patience. She knocked again. Another two minutes passed.

Fuck patience. The transfiguration professor swiftly drew her wand, the unspoken spell flowing from deep in her gut. It clicked open without any extra protective enchantments….Slamming the door open she strode inside, ready to hurl abuse at the man sitting on his sofa, reading about the "theory of antidotes" or some other nonsense.

But there was no one there. The words died in her throat. Her feet came to a standstill. The door struck the stone wall behind it with a resounding Bang that echoed abashedly into the silence. The pale green sofa sat there insolently staring up at her.

"Severus?"

Her strong voice shook with uncertainty, and she felt the first claws of unease sink into her shoulders. They tensed. There was no answer. His rooms were empty. Quick, timid steps took her to the doorway of his study. Nothing. Next his laboratory. Nothing.

She backed into the first room, she wasn't worried or anything, Merlin, not about him. But this absence was…. Unsettling. To say the least. Her heel crunched on glass. She glanced down, surprised to see the floor next to the final door littered with potions vials.

Cautiously, almost afraid of what she might find within, she placed her hand on the door to his bedroom and gave a gentle shove. The door swung open smoothly, and there he was. Sleeping peacefully on his bed. The worry turned to frozen, dirty, slush in her stomach. Merlin, was she going to kill him. She took a few steps towards him, and reached out a hand to shake him awake, but fell short, for the umpteenth time that day.

He was fully clothed. His hands were raw and dirty. And on his face lay a frown. Deep and distressed, it was etched into his brow, exhaustion scrawled across his face. But what really stopped her were his eyes, red and swollen, and the tear track down his face, still glistening in the faded light. Suddenly his head turned weakly to the side, and from his parted lips came a tiny cry, barely more than a whisper.

Minerva's mouth opened silently. She swallowed hard. Never before had she seen Severus so weak, so vulnerable. The stoic idiot would never accept help from anybody, and yet here he was, crying out in his sleep. What had happened? Why was he in such a state? The sight of him so different from his usual cold, assured persona horrified her. Scared her out of the small room and back over the glass, to rest on the damned sofa, mind reeling.

"Pray tell me, Minerva. What, dare I ask, are you doing in my rooms?"

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Okay, cliffie(ish) Well... What did you think! **

**Please Review it makes me smile really goofily all day.**

**Again, a thousand apologies for the lateness of this chapter...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Pray Tell Me**

**A/N:**

**I could grovel, I could cry, I could kiss your shoes and be your slave for a month, but nothing will change the fact that I have not logged into this account since I don't know when, and you probably all want to kill me.**

**There are no excuses, every time I felt guilty I simply procrastinated more to put off the inevitable disappointed faces that would float through my mind. **

****************************************************************************************I actually had to read the damn story through because I couldn't remember what I wrote. I don't even know what the plot is / will be. ****************************************************************************************

**I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **I'm sorry **********************I'm sorry **********************I'm sorry **********************I'm sorry ****************************************************************************************

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><p>"Pray tell me, Minerva. What, dare I ask, are you doing in my rooms?"<p>

She gasped, jerking her head to look up at him and sprang to her feet, quickly pretending he hadn't startled her. Once the height inequality had been at least partially addressed, she fixed him with her best 'next headmistress' glare.

"Why everything _you_ should be doing Severus, namely, carrying out your role as a professor at this school, teaching your students, marking their homework, and most importantly, not sleeping throughout the entire school day!"

She winced at the shrill tone of her voice and took a deep breath.

He stared at her.

She glared at him.

He raised one eyebrow.

She blinked. DAMN.

He smirked. Infuriatingly.

"My apologies, _mother_." He was leaning heavily against the doorframe, eyes red and sore in his sallow face. His hands were shaking so he clasped them behind his back and tried to look cold and austere. The bed hair ruined it.

"It is not me you should be apologizing to." she replied crisply, before softening her tone, "What on earth happened to you, Severus? You look… well frankly man you look terrible."

"How I chose to spend my weekend is none of your concern, Minerva, I shall explain myself to Albus shortly. Good day." He turned on his heel disappeared back into his room.

Clearly dismissed, Minerva remained in his chambers for a few final moments before leaving.

_Severus gingerly unbuttoned his shirt, hissing under his breath as his fingers probed his chest. Dark purple and black marks mapped his abdomen, swollen and tender, and stopped millimeters below the collar of his shirt. _

Once out of the room she let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

_Trembling, he shrugged the material off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The bruising continued down his arms and spread __across his back and in some places the battered skin had split._

Her mind was racing, that bloody secretive fool clearly needed help. She wanted him to need help. She wanted him to need her.

_He had to know what had happened to him, how he had been left in this state. He hugged himself, probing for the pain he had felt when first coming round. Broken ribs, one two three four five six seven of them._

Her colleague was quite the mystery, she thought with a dry smile as she strode back the way she came.

_He felt like he was staring at someone else's body; the potion had reduced the pain, the experience had been erased from his mind._

_Quite_ the mystery.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Tah Dah! **

**Please don't hurt me. Tell me you forgive me. **

**I may not ever change my cowardly habits****, and this may take till the next olympics, in 2016, or maybe even later, but BY THE GODS I am going to finish this frackin story if it kills me.**

**If anyone still cares enough to read this, I love you. Really I do.**


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